Never Throw Out The Ceremonial First Pitch
It is not often that I pick the "better to pass" option when faced with a new opportunity, but throwing the first pitch out at a professional baseball game is one of those times. At first, the offer appears to be a great honor. However, as time passes, realizing what is about to occur becomes real. Visions transforming into your favorite pitcher quickly dissolve into being the last kid picked in gym class. Like participating in "Dancing with the Stars," this experience is best left to the imagination, not displayed to millions of people.
The ceremonial first pitch, where a guest of honor throws a ball marking the start of the game, is a long-standing baseball ritual. Initially, the honoree threw a ball to the home team's pitcher from their grandstand seat. Back then, it felt more like the fans picked a representative and essentially threw the ball together. However, President Ronald Reagan's staff changed all that during an Orioles game's unscheduled appearance. They decided the president should throw the first pitch out where everyone could see him, standing on the field just in front of the pitcher's mound. This moment forever turned the group's representative into a sacrificial lamb out there alone to remind everyone never to throw out the first pitch.
From Dr. Fauci to Michael Jordan, stories of the worst first pitches will always haunt them. Snoop Dog threw one so far outside at a San Diego Padres game that camera operators and fans ran to get out of the way. Even the great Carl Lewis felt his childhood dream disappear after sending the first pitch bouncing towards home plate. So, of course, no one wants to be forever associated with YouTube posts titled "Worst First Pitches." Yet when that coveted honor appears in people's inboxes, it will always amaze me when they reply "yes!"
I've personally watched many honorees as their excitement turns to maybe-I-should-practice to pure obsession to haunting terror. I cannot think of anything more exposing, other than doing stand-up, than displaying your throwing ability right in the middle of America's pastime during a professional game where millions are waiting for the pros to take the field. Why would you do that?! I would rather put on a sequined leotard and dance to "Staying Alive" with Steve Wozniak (yes, he was actually on the show.)
Yet this Saturday, I will be in the grandstands at a Dodger game, watching as another honoree sheepishly takes the field. These past two weeks, I've heard stories of how he has practiced in the company's parking lot and have noticed his excitement (cloaked as indifference) has slowly turned to terror. Those around him have demonstrated their perfect simulated pitches to me while they dream the opportunity was theirs. I'm confident this experience isn't uniquely mine. Yet I remind them that they are the lucky ones. I wish our honoree all the luck needed to throw a small ball as far as he can directly at home plate. I mean, what could go wrong?
